


My hands are stained with love

by smaragdbird



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:23:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I loved him so much I couldn't let him live without me." Spoilers for "The Reichenbach Fall"</p>
            </blockquote>





	My hands are stained with love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the above prompt on [](http://dark-fest.livejournal.com/profile)[**dark_fest**](http://dark-fest.livejournal.com/).

Sherlock’s text came in the early hours of the morning. Jim was awake, leaning against the headboard and watching the faint promise of sunrise through the window. Sebastian was asleep next to him, sprawled all over the bed, back an expanse of tanned skin and scars.

A roof, how convenient for his plan. Sherlock probably knew that that was the reason he had chosen the place. A jump, very melodramatic but fitting in a way. Not that he would jump, that was what the gun was for.

By tonight it would be all over.

He looked over at Sebastian.

Jim supposed he should have seen this coming the moment he had met Sebastian, golden hair and cold, cruel smiles. Should have seen this coming from that first, unexpected kiss to nights when he lost all interest in the world beyond Sebastian. Not love, perhaps, but if not, then he did not know what love was.

The gun felt oddly heavy in his hand. He could have had someone else do it but Sebastian was good, almost had a sixth sense about having a gun pointed at him and Jim needed to be certain, couldn’t bear the thought of Sebastian living without him. Sebastian was his and it was Jim’s right to take his life and no one else’s.

Because we die together was not so much a threat as a promise.

Sebastian was nothing special. He wasn’t Sherlock but there was something that made Jim keep him, let him come closer until Sebastian had all but crawled inside his skin.

Maybe it was the way Sebastian looked at him. No one’s ever looked at him like that in his whole life, that fierce, overwhelming desire to keep him whatever the cost.

He stretched out along Sebastian’s back, draping himself over him, keeping the gun pointed at the back of Sebastian’s head right at the weakest point where his spine joined his skull.

“Fuck off, Jim”, Sebastian muttered into his pillow.

“I love you”, Jim whispered into his ear and pulled the trigger.

Twice.

Sebastian didn’t even have time to open his eyes before he died.

Jim got up and dressed, looking back at the bed only once. Apart from the small trickle of blood down his neck one could think that Sebastian was only sleeping.

 

 

Hours later Jim sat on the roof of St. Bart’s hospital, waiting for Sherlock. The sun rises in the east, filling the room in which Sebastian lies dead and for a second Jim felt fear griping him. What if Sherlock had something up his sleeve, something to turn around everything?

The gun felt comforting now. Everything was in place and by tonight both he and Sherlock would be dead just like Sebastian was.

When he had met Sebastian, Jim had imagined things differently, a fairytale romance.

Back then he hadn’t read much fairytales.

When he had met Sherlock he had known without a doubt that his and Sebastian’s future had been decided a long time ago. It was over, long, long before it had started.

Because he and Sherlock had always been meant to destroy each other.


End file.
